Jewels and Swords
by Dragonskyt
Summary: Isn't it ironic that the same ideals that betrayed a man could save him in the end?
1. The Old Man and The Fool

**Jewels and Swords**

**Prologue**

**The Old Man and the Fool**

He flew, yet at the same time he did not. He drifted and still it was not the same. Flowing through the streams of [All that is] and [All this isn't], he knew what was happening and lamented the fact that he was unable to achieve his goal.

Unable to stop a foolish young man from taking the path he had taken, the man clad in red and black sighed as his Spiritual Body was slowly moving towards the end of his existence.

He was but a copy of the true man called EMIYA, a small piece which would combine with the true Counter Guardian like a page in a book. All his experience and knowledge he had achieved throughout the war he had just fought will become a small article in the grand autobiography that is his true self.

A person reads a book and he will learn from it, follow the protagonist in a story and share his adventures, but like everyone else they will not truly know what the protagonist is feeling. The words are written, yet they do not properly explain what they are. Emotions like frustration, anger and fear are that which everyone knew off, yet can anyone also admit they felt exactly what the protagonist felt?

The answer is no. No, they will not.

His true self will know of his struggle and adventure, but just like everyone else he will close the book when finished and start the next one without too much thought.

All in all, the copy of EMIYA will just be another building block of the true one and be forgotten in the end, even by himself.

He accepted it.

The copy of EMIYA accepted it without a second thought. He had failed his mission to create a paradox and the result would be his own undoing. Even if he had succeeded, it would not have mattered. This Emiya Shirou was not him. He knew it from the moment his memories returned and he saw that pendant, yet he denied himself the truth. The moment he met himself, it was clear the world was just a parallel dimension, for when he himself had fought that very same war, there was no Archer who wielded Swords.

Therefore, any war with himself in it was automatically a parallel dimension, he himself being the major difference.

''Don't think too much about it, you might pop a vein.'' A voice called out.

Archer's eyes opened. It should be impossible, as the moment he vanished from that world, his humanoid body would have vanished. All that was left was data, memories and knowledge, there should be no need for such things as eyes.

And yet he opened them, twisting his head towards the origin of the voice.

''I should have known.'' Archer grumped as he laid his eyes on the old man.

The man just chuckled in return. ''I see my reputation reaches even Counter Guardians. No small feat I must shamelessly gloat.''

The Counter Guardian crossed his hands, his steel grey eyes never leaving the man.

''You are a user of Magic, Alaya programmed all of us with the knowledge of the users. You are a threat to humanity due to the unpredictability of your nature and powers. And that's without even mentioning you are a Dead Apostle Ancestor to boot. You are a major target for us Counter Guardians… give me one reason as to why I shouldn't take you down right now.'' Archer responded roughly.

''And lose your chance to free yourself from Humanity's grasp?'' The man eloquently returned.

''…Start talking, I am not exactly in the mood for your tricks Old Man of the Jewels.''

''Ah to the point I see, well I suppose after all you've been through, it's not unexpected.''

''…''

''Alright, no need to glare.'' The man spoke, although there was hint of any fear whatsoever in his voice.

''I am here to grant you a proposal you cannot refuse.'' The Wizard Marshall began. ''You see I've traveled many worlds, many colorful worlds and there is so much to see and experience. Yet lately I've taken a liking to seeing how other fare in strange new worlds and I was wondering if you might be interested.''

Archer huffed. ''I am not seeing the deal that would make me change my mind yet old man, get to the point.''

A small spark of a multitude of colors glinted in the corner of the man's eyes, it didn't go unnoticed by the Counter Guardian.

''Do you wish to remove the curse that binds you to humanity's will?''

A small shiver went through his spine as the man said those words. It was what he had hoped to achieve through the use of a paradox, but now this man just said he had the answer… intriguing.

''Oho, you say you can break the contract between me and the World?'' Archer spoke smugly.

''Well not break, even I have my limits, but I do know how to annul the contract with the use of a loophole…'' Zelretch said as if he was taking care of his nails and whistling a tune of innocence at the same time.

Hook, line and sinker… Archer wasn't stupid, he knew when he was caught.

''You got my attention, what does the Wizard Marshall want in return? I have no possessions, all I have are my blades and this spiritual body. A Magician like yourself does not do this out of the kindness of his heart, what is the price?''

''Excellent, I knew you weren't such a moron like your younger self.'' The man praised him.

''But still a moron right?'' Archer read between the lines.

''Well of course, all heroes are fools as you must have realized.'' Zelretch noted without a second pause.

''Then I must be the biggest of then all for following the road, knowing full well what it would entail.''

''Well that is one way of looking at it.'' The Old Man agreed with a broad smile.

Archer sighed. ''The price?'' He repeated his last question.

''Nothing more, but knowing that fact that I am keeping an eye as you make use of the loophole.''

''So it just costs my privacy? Not much of a payment now is it.'' Archer accused him with a grin.

The man faked a heart attack by placing his hands dramatically on his chest. ''Ah, guilty as charged.''

The payment was obviously something more than lack of privacy, but Archer didn't mind. A chance to release himself from Alaya's grasp was just too good of an opportunity to just let go. Even if he would have to move through the nice circles of Hell, then it would still be worth it. All he did was move from one Hell to the next after all.

''Fine, consider the price paid, now how does this loophole work?'' Archer asked with interest.

''Wonderful, I knew you couldn't refuse. It's quite simple really, but it does require the help of someone with a particular set of skills, which is why it is not used that much.''

''I can assume you are the one who has such… skills?''

''Correct, looks like there is more than just Swords in that head of yours.''

''Get closer and I'll show you my collection.'' Archer half heartedly threatened.

''Temper, temper!'' Zelretch played along. ''Now, as you know a Counter Guardian is someone who became a Hero by making a contract with the World, achieving enough power to do the impossible.''

Archer nodded. It was how he had saved a small town from a natural disaster. It was such a foolish waste of power… but at the same time he knew he would do the same once more if it came to it.

The Old Man continued unhindered. ''A Heroic Spirit however is someone who has achieved the impossible and gained fame with his or her own power, without the help of the World and became admired for that result.''

King Arthur, Cu Chulainn, Gilgamesh. Whether good or bad, they had achieved greatness with their own power and their legends followed them to years to come, whether they wanted to or not.

''All you have to do is become a proper Heroic Spirit.'' Zelretch finished.

Archer frowned. ''How does that work? How can I gain a legend if… of you can't mean…'' Archer groaned.

Zelretch grinned like a shark, his vampiric teeth in full glory.

''Ah, I see you figured it out. Well it's not that hard once you thought it through.'' Zelretch chuckled.

''I can't believe it's that simple, but then again, not every Counter Guardian meets a user of the Kaleidoscope.''

Zelretch scoffed. ''It wasn't easy I tell you, grabbing you from the [Flow] was no simple task, stabilizing you took even more time. Once you joined your true body, it would be impossible altogether. Alaya doesn't take kindly to trespassers.''

''So what is your plan? Send me to enough parallel Dimensions until I have enough fame that my true body is no longer the one that made the contract?''

''Sort off, but I am thinking more of Alternate Dimensions, which is a step further.''

''Is that even possible? No wait, don't answer that, the Throne of Heroes is within the Root, which is at the center of everything. Of course that is possible, but why Alternate Dimensions?''

''Easy, because Alaya cannot interfere in Alternate Dimensions, meaning you are free to do as you please without looking at your back every second of the way. I assure you, it's only because I am a Dead Apostle that Alaya doesn't actively hunt me down.''

''Diplomatic immunity from Gaia?''

''That is an accurate statement.'' Zelretch agreed.

''So to sum it up. You are sending me through several different dimensions. It is my job to become a legend in that world, meaning I'll have to become a hero-'' Archer said and then stopped in the middle when realization struck him hard like a low blow.

No way…

Impossible…

Yet the facts can't be ignored.

Archer laughed, he laughed like a stranded man who just found out that after walking across the entire island, to find out a rescue boat was there all along behind a big stupid rock, next to where he had started his journey.

''To think… to think that my own ideals which have betrayed me… to think that they would save me in the end.'' Archer spoke softly, but enough for the Old Man to hear.

''Ah, I did say Heroes are fools, you are no exception.'' Zelretch said with grim satisfaction.

''Such a fool I am.'' He agreed with the same grim smirk. ''When do I start?''

''What about right now?''

''Huh? But wait where am I going!'' Archer asked frantically as he felt the Magic moving.

Zelretch just laughed at him a full bellied laugh.

''And deny myself the satisfaction of seeing your face when you realize it? Hahaha! Just one warning Iron Wrought Hero, you have one life, do not waste it!''

''Zeeeeelreeeetch!''

And then he was gone, speeding through time, reality and space until he reached his destination.

He never stopped cursing the Old Man all the way.

**=0=0=0=**

**Author Notes:**

**Well I am back with a brand new ra- err story.**

**I am not going to lie, it might suck and I will expect negative reviews. But that's okay. I've been lurking around a certain forum for a while now and I have seen great tips and hilarious comments, but one thing is clear.**

**Whether you are bad at it or not. Whether you don't know if you should do it…**

**Just write.**

**Write and improve. Read the reviews and make the next chapter better. There will be no improvement without action and I am going to make this fic into a learning experience.**

**My goals;**

**-No Bad Romance or No Romance at all.**

**-Realistic Characters, they stay true to their canon selves.**

**-Believable Lore. It may not be a 100% true, but it can be possible!**

**And I want you! Yes you heard me! I want reviews about improvements, where I can do better. I want to read the first chapters and then compare it to the last and think; ''I've improved!''**

**Therefore I won't make any edits. Every fault I made will be noted and researched. Maybe at the end I will go back and make the edits as they should be, but this is a one way trip without looking back. I will grow from my mistakes and try to reach the Throne of Writers!**


	2. The Fool and The Elves

**Jewels and Swords**

Chapter 1

**The Fool and The High Elves**

The cry's of death echoed throughout the forest. Elf after elf was slaughtered, maimed and tortured as the undead skeletons and ghouls tore through the ranks without mercy. She saw a young elf warrior, not even a year of training under his belt, grabbed and dragged under a ruined building, the sounds of agony quickly following after.

She had told her men and women in arms to run, to flee towards Silvermoon, yet they all stood at her side until the end. Some of them died a painless death, others had enough time to see their centuries of life flash through their eyes.

Arrow after arrow was fired, she could easily take down three enemies at the same time, but for every enemy killed, two more replaced the last. She had tried to warn Silvermoon, but her messengers had died, she had tried to make an escape plan for the rest to survive, but the road was cut off with even more undead.

Arthas had completely dominated the fight from beginning to the end, no trap was able to stop the man and every trick was brutally destroyed with pure force and numbers. Even now she could see her fallen comrades turn into monstrosities of nature. The smell of death and decay reaching her nose and almost making her puke as a result.

The last cries of her fellow soldiers reached her ears and she knew… she knew she was the last one left standing.

Sylvanas Windrunner fell down on her knees as her legs could no longer support her body with the combined force of both mental trauma and plain exhaustion. The man who was once a gentle prince now pointed his blade towards her and sneered.

''I salute your bravery elf, but the chase is over.'' He spoke with a grave voice. The man was going to kill her and there would be no hesitation.

''Then I'll make my stand here, Butcher.'' She defied him once more and then proceeded to curse him in her native language.

Arthas grimaced in disgust. ''I'll enjoy hanging your entrails out for all to see!'' He declared and charged ahead on his steed.

She jumped out of the way just in time as Frostmourne sliced where her head had been not so long ago. With a roll, she grabbed the last of her arrows and aimed her proud bow at the knight in purple. The arrows caught fire the moment they were released, but Arthas was faster and simply slammed them out of the air, at the same time casting his own corruptive green spell towards her.

Once more she was forced to dodge, jumping back. The undead in the area hadn't acted, Arthas probably wished to end this battle himself. If it weren't for his arrogance, he could have killed her by now.

''Is this still all part of your plan elf? Aren't you fleeing in fear!'' Arthas taunted her, but she did not grab the bait and kept her distance.

Arthas snorted and carefully maneuvered his undead steed to block off a chance of escape.

''Do not prolong the inevitable, I might make your death less dreadful.''

Sylvanas snorted and dashed away from another swipe of his sword. ''As if your word is to be trusted. I rather die with a bow in my hands than accept your mercy.''

''That can be arranged!'' He spoke and cast yet another spell at her, forcing her to dodge again, but Arthas was faster and manage to slice her arm with Frostmourne before she could escape his range.

''Gah!'' She screamed as the wound immediately froze in a painful way.

She slowly stammered backwards, no longer capable of using the agile acts she used before. Arthas slowly marched towards her on his horse without any form of hurry whatsoever. He knew she was dying… and so did she.

Her back touched stone and to her fright, she found herself surrounded between an army and a stone plateau.

''It is done, are you prepared?'' Arthas asked her with sadistic glee shimmering in his eyes.

Sylvanas desperately looked for a way out, but undead stood on all sides, hungrily looking at her like a piece of meat, only this time it was literal instead of the normal males in her vicinity. She was trapped, alone and her quiver was empty. All she had was her ancient bow, but without arrows it might as well be a walking stick.

Arthas didn't let her think of her final moments and charged ahead.

She could see the blade moving, towards her exposed neck, ready to sink it's unholy steel in her soft skin and let her crimson blood water the grass beneath her.

She didn't want to die, she didn't want to die, **she didn't want to die!**

***Clang!***

And like a miracle, Frostmourne was blocked by another sword. A sword golden and pure, just being near it gave her hope. It could not be called beautiful, as the word beautiful was not enough to properly describe the weapon.

''What!'' Arthas raged and Invincible jumped back, clearing the area for some distance.

Sylvanas looked at her savior, but she did not recognize him.

Clothed in red and black, the man was a tanned human with white hair and grey eyes. A smirking expression adorned his face, which did not fit in the current situation. Even his voice was cocky at best and did nothing, but add more weight on her shoulders.

''Well, well, I certainly did not expect this on the other side of the woods.'' He commented.

''You, who are you!?'' Arthas commanded.

''Me? I am just an Archer.'' He answered, though not answering at the same time.

The fallen prince gave a look at his sword and raised an eyebrow. ''Intriguing, You managed to stop Frostmourne with that blade of yours. It usually slices through steel with ease.''

The archer shrugged. ''Kind of defeats the purpose if it didn't.''

''A jester I see. I'll enjoy making a ghoul out of you. It will be harder to joke around without your vocal cords.''

Sylvanas felt something tighten around her waist and when looking down, saw it was the strange man's arm. ''Although I'd love to stay and chat, I really have other matters I need to discuss with the lady over here, so… Sayonara.'' He said, which was no doubt either some sort of curse or farewell.

She had to give it to Arthas, he didn't even blink at the spoken words and acted immediately.

Ghouls and skeletons all lunged at once and she closed her eyes for the incoming pain, but her feet instead left the ground and she was flying towards the higher ground of the plateau. She was flying? No the force of her body being pulled was more like being dragged. He had jumped, he had actually managed to jump that high!

''Hold on princess, I need my other hand to keep the stone creatures at bay.'' The man said and indeed she could see Gargoyles following them.

Made out of stone and granite, filled with magic and the flesh of mortals, these beings could rival the Dragonhawks back in Silvermoon when it came to agility. Their claws easily ripped flesh and their teeth could crunch bone.

With a wave of his hand and a mutter of his breath, swords of all kinds were conjured into existence all around them. She couldn't see his face, but she did hear a snapping sound of two fingers brushing past one another, in turn making the swords fly like arrows through the sky and impaling or hindering the pursuers.

''It's working!'' Sylvanas couldn't help but exclaim and felt her feet touch the ground again. They did not waste their valuable time and raced towards the trees. They made their way into the forest, running on for several more minutes until they hid underneath the roots of a big wooden oak that had been growing for centuries if the thickness was all natural.

The sound of flapping wings went by, but they didn't land to finish them off. She couldn't help but hold her breath, they were looking for them, yet they could not find them through the many leaves that obscured the lower grounds. Even then, the roots would hide them well.

She couldn't help but sigh in relief as the sound of the flapping wings started to lessen. Dead was so certain, she saw the ending of her life and yet she was saved by this strange human. Now she had time she could tell he had been in the woods for quite a while now. Leaves adorned his messy white hair and there were several marks on his clothing that showed he had climbed some trees.

''No time to reminisce Princess, we still need to make some distance between those Dead.'' Her savior told her as he checked his body for any wounds. He was panting slightly, but that itself was already a surprise really. Even an orc, which are known for their stamina and brutish strength wouldn't be this light breathed after such a run. They would be exhausted!

She did the same, but the only wound she had was her injured arm and that could be healed easily enough if they managed to find a healer or priest. She let the odd naming of the undead slip by, but there was one thing she really needed to make clear.

''For your information, I am not a princess. I am Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon.''

The man just raised his hands up in a non threatening manner. ''No need to get all your feathers ruffled up. So, what should I call you?''

''Sylvanas is fine, can I ask the name of my savior?''

Again with the smirk. It fit his face really well… but she was sure it also tended to annoy the people around him, it started to affect her in any case. ''Fair enough, you can call me Archer.''

''Archer? Don't you have a real name?''

''Gave up on it a long time ago. I am an archer, thus Archer fits best.''

It was kind of sad to hear it, but Archer didn't seem to mind. Maybe he had a troubled past, it would certainly explain his attitude. Why would he wield a sword though when he just said he was an archer? Heck he even conjured swords out of thin air, so he could also qualify as a wizard. What's with golden sword anyway? It radiated hope like nothing else and it looked so… so impossibly beautiful. It was also gone now she noticed it.

She frowned. ''Hey, where did that sword go?''

''I threw it at that pale guy when we left. I figured that staggering him would buy us some time.''

''You threw away the sword!? Are you insane, it was capable of blocking that accursed blade of his! Why would you do that!'' She angrily scolded.

''Here catch.'' He answered and before her eyes, that same sword was stabbed in the ground in front of her feet

Golden and blue, it looked like a sword fit for royalty, just like she remembered… but something was wrong. It didn't feel right and apparently it showed on her face.

''Ah you noticed. Then again, the difference between this and that sword are so much greater even a child could do it.''

She didn't let the jab anger her. ''What's different? It feels… weaker somehow.''

''Simple, I traced this blade with less Od, thus it doesn't have the same authority like the last one.''

More questions, this man was one big mystery.

''Traced? Od? Authority? Those words are unfamiliar to my kind.''

Archer pondered for a moment. ''Will you answer some questions of mine if I answer yours?'' He diplomatically suggested.

She saw no fault in his logic and agreed.

Again he took a moment to think before answering, but that was to be expected. ''Tracing is my brand of magic. It allows me to create objects, preferably swords from my internal magical energy which is called Od. Authority is the concept of altering the world's reality around the will of an object or person. The stronger it has Authority, the bigger and more effective the change. It is less of an ability which needs certain steps to activate as it more comparable of that it simply has the right to do so; therefore the name Authority.''

She could follow the first two simple explanations, but the last one took her some seconds to properly comprehend. It sounded like what gods could do, shifting reality as they pleased simply because they had the right. Does that mean the sword was not created by the populace of Azeroth?

''Now I believe you owe me some answers.''

''Very well, but could we do so as we run? I fear the undead are chasing our trail.'' She suggested, although it was more like common sense. The threat of undead close by should be everyone's priority in such a situation.

''Very well, lead the way. I've been stuck inside this forest for days and if it wasn't for the sound of battle, I might have been there even longer.''

''Don't worry, our elven sentries would have found you eventually.''

He grumbled some words in that strange language of his, but didn't speak any further about the matter.

The run was calm and paced. Archer easily kept up even if it was clearly obvious she was more used to navigating rural areas. She knew which rocks to evade, which path's took less energy and what holes poisonous animals may hide in. Archer simple ran over everything with such grace it looked like he was floating. His entire body was in perfect balance and his breathing had a rhythm drill sergeants would be proud of.

They also talked as was promised.

According to his questions, it was obvious he wasn't from around. He had no knowledge about elves, nor any about the humans to the south. It was as if he lived away from all kinds of civilization. But that couldn't be because she clearly noticed how well he could control the conversation and keep second guessing herself.

Their deal was one question and one answer, then switch. As long as you answered, you could take as long as you wished, but the game was all about taking as much as you could without revealing too much. It was unspoken that they had to tell the truth unless it was too personal or classified, but it never came to that.

She quickly learned yes or no questions weren't a smart choice. Even if he answered, she would still have to elaborate. Even normal questions where people usually added more than just the answer was like talking to a brick wall.

An example was how he got here.

''A wizard send me.''

Who was that wizard?

''The Old man of the Jewels.''

Not his title, but his name!

''Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg.''

A completely unknown man with the most unusual name.

Why did he send you here?

''Probably for amusement.''

Why amusement?

''Because he likes to fool around.''

It didn't go anywhere, but she kept the names in the back of her mind for later. Also, in return he could ask her questions back. She had assumed she would have to think carefully on how to answer, but they were as plain as they come.

Questions about currency, the races, language, the world. All basic knowledge and he knew none of it.

They had to rest a couple of times, or rather she did. Archer didn't look worse for wear, though he did drink from the spring to quench his thirst. Most unusual, maybe he was some kind of super human made by that Kischur wizard guy. An experiment send into the world and learn, only to later come back and report.

Yet as she was about to ask it, her mind blanked when she felt the warm heath of the Sunwell invigorate her body. She had missed this feeling, the euphoria of her home that she grew up in.

It was Silvermoon in all her glory. Proud white buildings, intertwined with nature itself, were visible over the large walls. The walls themselves were but decoration really, it was the runes etched over the lands that protected the city.

''Let's go.'' She spoke and hastened her pace. Archer followed, his footsteps never lagging behind.

There was only one thing that she was worried about. These runes detected intend, they did not only physically protect the city from siege attacks and the like. They also made sure to alert the nearest elves if a hostile presence crossed the borders.

Her ears flexed. Unnecessary as the feeling held no connection with sound, but it did tell her he was still behind her. Her foot crossed the border and as a result a blast of Sunwell energy radiated through her body once more. It felt amazing, even more so without the barrier between her and the mythical power.

And then Archer stepped over the border… nothing.

She sighed in relief, a second time today a great burden had been put off her shoulder. She would very much hate it if Archer turned out to be a foe in disguise. She didn't even know why she assumed so in the first place…

No, she couldn't lie to herself. She knew very well why she assumed.

This man… Archer was no human. Humans don't move the way he does. They don't breath the way he does. They don't look the same way he does.

It all looks the same, but there are small signs he was all but a human.

Super human maybe, an experiment gone right instead of wrong. The man had emotions, he could think and had a will of his own. He is a being, looked like a human, but she shouldn't assume she was one. It was the truth after all.

The gate stood open, the guards looked tense. They must have heard the disturbance, but not the actual threat. Time to change that.

The guards tensed as they saw the two of them approaching. She must have looked horrible as they immediately called out for a healer. Predictably they made a move to apprehend Archer, their spears already on their way to aim at his throat, only meet a stretched out arm splitting them apart.

''This man saved my life, gather the council I have peril news of grave importance!'' She demanded and as commanded, the elves acted.

=0=0=0=

Archer had to admit, these elves moved fast when they needed to. Being Ranger-General must be in a high up place of command as her words were not only taken very seriously, but they actually believed it too. He couldn't say that much about human command.

Seeing as he had no idea where to go and Sylvanas motioned him to follow her, he took the certain over the uncertain. He was already involved and whatever was going to happen, they might need him to speak up. They still needed to fix that arm of her though, so first stop was no doubt a place where that arm of hers could be healed.

A sigh escaped his lips.

A Dead invasion… or rather Undead as they were called here. Same difference really, except the undead here had some rather interesting troops he wasn't familiar with. The zombies he could deal with, they might even be weaker than the ones back home. However those skeletal creatures moved faster than he'd expect. Still not that fast with his level of speed, yet it will definitely pose a threat to the average human.

Elves too for that matter. It seemed unlike the modern interpretation of elves back on his plane of reality, the elves here had similar human parameters. When it came to magic however, he had to admit even with his boosted stats as a Servant, they came up higher than him.

He had felt the force when he crossed the boundary field. It was just like the one he had at home and as such he was familiar with its function. Thus there would be no problem as he had no intention of harming anyone at the moment. Well except that pale guy which Sylvanas had identified as Prince Arthas Menethil. She couldn't explain how or why he became an undead like the rest, but it was clear he is the top of the chain of command at the moment.

That blade of his was odd as well.

Frostmourne… It wasn't even a proper blade. Fueled with the soul of an Orc called Ner'zhul, it was nothing else. It's sharpness, it's magic, everything was the Orcish necromancer's power. Therefore all Frostmourne was is an container, one incomplete without also wielding the suit of armor at that.

It was probably important intel, he'd have to remember it for later use.

They were guided to a mediocre sized building, it had many windows and holes, allowing the sun an win to blow through with ease. He could even hear the sound of chimes chiming through carefully carved slots inside walls, which played a joyous melody depending on the wind that blew through.

The rooms they walked through were decorated with many works of art, most made out of wood, but there were also several paintings and colorful banners. Calming colors of brown and green filled the walls and floors, further adding to his thoughts that the Elves here are just as nature based as the stereo types back home.

Along the way they met several elves. Most didn't appear to wield weapons, but some did. These usually consisted of swords and bows, but an occasional spear caught his eye. Sylvanas explained that royal guards could be identified with these spears, but when the elves went into the woods they kept to swords and bows due to the lack of maneuverability in the forest.

But on one thing Archer was certain and that is that each and every elf could use magic. They brimmed full of the magic that permeated the air like a golden mist. He could see it, but at the same time he couldn't focus on it and looked through it with ease. Even the insides of the buildings were filled full of the magical energy.

It was somewhat similar to Mana, but not exactly. Whereas Mana is the base element, this magical energy felt more like Mana and something else… something… corrupt. Yes this must be what left a foul taste on his mouth. The magical energy filled all his senses and he couldn't sense anything but corruptive influences everywhere.

Luckily it seemed to work only in high doses, one had to use this type of Mana a lot to take effect. The good news for him is as he is a Magus, his Magic Circuits would protect him from mental interference, especially one a subtle as this one. It wouldn't do much against the spells that interfere with the physical body, but it did protect him from absorbing the corruptive miasma that swirled around him like a well made filter.

The world itself was already filled to the brim with Mana, much to his surprise. A Servant could easily live as long as he didn't exhaust his entire supply of Prana. He was no Servant any longer, but he still possessed an inhuman body which needed magical energy to sustain itself. Seeing as Mana was plentiful around him, he could almost absorb it simply by breathing. It did take a while to convert it to usable Od though, so it wasn't as if he could cast several Excalibur's one after another. Heck even one will be a big risk with him fading out due to lack of Od.

When they reached the final door, they found themselves in a large room with a comfortable bed. Sylvanas didn't even think twice to lay down and rest and he simply took a chair to make himself comfortable.

Sylvanas seemed to catch his unspoken question and spoke without looking at him.

''I've called for a council, but it will take at least an hour or two before everyone has arrived from their current location. In the mean time I will need a specialist to take a look at this arm of mine.''

''Can't you just heal it with your magic?'' Archer grunted.

''Possibly, but that blade probably did more than just slice and flash freeze my arm.''

Archer didn't comment on it. He knew very well that this wasn't just a simple cut, yet as long as the strike wasn't fatal, there would be no danger of the cursed blade affecting her in any way. It just is what it is, a flash freeze cut that needed to be treated before her arm fell off.

The door burst open and a large elf together with someone else busted in.

The elf had long white hair that rested far beneath his shoulder. His clothing was filled with golden and silvery embroidery and his face held cheekbones one would expect from royalty.

The person behind him was a smug looking elf. Unlike the elves he had seen so far, this one had darker hair, which seemed exotic on the features of an elf. The last special detail of his outfit consisted of a large hat with a feather attached to it.

They immediately started to speak in their native tongue. He had heard of the language before when Sylvanas slipped up what she called the Common. Apparently English was almost exactly the same as Common, though he doubted the modern words from his world were commonly used here.

But as though he couldn't follow the conversation, that did not mean he couldn't read facial expressions. The royal elf kept his attention of Sylvanas all the time, but the dark haired elf occasionally took a glance at his direction when he assumed he wasn't looking.

''And that's when Archer saved me.'' Sylvanas spoke, switching the language to Eng- Common.

For the first time the royal elf looked at his direction and seized him up from head to toe, but then smiled brightly.

''I must thank you for saving our dearest Ranger-General. If there is anything we can do for you, feel free to ask.''

Archer shrugged. ''I was just at the wrong place at the right time.''

Sylvanas snorted. ''Be warned your highness, this man has a terrible sense of humor and seems to enjoy to play with words. To my knowledge he hasn't lied once, but neither did he answer a lot of my questions.''

It was then the other elf spoke up. ''Then how could you trust him? He could be a spy for all we know!''

Archer raised an eyebrow and Sylvanas raised her voice. ''He saved me from death, he even entered the barrier without activating the warning signal. Why shouldn't I trust him!?''

The elf smiled wickedly. ''Why don't we ask him? As you said, he has not lied even once correct?''

''Preposterous, Archer you stay silent.'' She commanded him, but ''your highness'' intervened.

''No I believe Dar'Khan does raise some valid questions. It is suspicious your companion saved you at the last possible moment, we shouldn't rule the possibility out yet.''

''Milord! You couldn't possibly be serious!''

''Don't strike that tone towards me, General. I trust your judgment, but if what you said is true, then we need to be sure. Think, one does not simply save someone without wishing something in return.''

Archer watched the argument with a dark sense of amusement. This was all too familiar to him for his liking. Even so, he would have to play with the cards that he had been given. Sylvanas appeared to be on his side, this Dar'Khan character was obviously antagonizing his presence and the elf, which should be the king according to the words that have been spoken, was in between.

Sylvanas's ear slumped a bit down like a cat, showing she gave in. ''Very well, Archer could you tell answer their questions and only speak the truth?''

''I can try, but a reassuring lie is sometimes better than an inconvenient truth.''

''Archer...'' Sylvanas warned him.

Archer sighed with a smile. ''Very well, but I have warned you all. I shall tell no lies, but I expect common courtesy when the answers do not match up to the truth you wish to hear.''

''It appears you haven't exaggerated Sylvanas. He does like to play with words.'' The king spoke gently, but there was no accusation in his voice.

''Then let us start.'' Dar'Khan began. ''Who are you?''

''I call myself Archer.''

''What is your real name?''

''I renounced my name long ago, but my family name is Emiya.''

''So you call yourself Archer Emiya?''

''No, I call myself Archer. I believe I already said that.''

Sylvanas coughed to hide away her laugh and it seemed the king himself had turned himself around to hide away a grin. Dar'Khan was not amused in the least.

''Fine, so your name is Archer. Why did you enter our woods?''

''I already answered these questions before, didn't Ms. Windrunner speak of them before?''

Sylvanas turned her head as she heard her name being spoken. ''I didn't go that far yet. I stopped when you appeared, please tell them what you have told me.''

''Alright, a wizard send me.''

Sylvanas groaned. ''You can answer more than a single sentence alright? This isn't exactly helping your cause.''

''Yes, but too much information may also be detrimental as well, I do hold wish to sustain my mysterious personality as long as possible. Just as the right questions and I shall tell no lies.''

''Be as that may, but I do believe this is no time to play games sir Emiya. A threat is approaching and the sooner we can get past this, the faster we can prepare for a counter attack.'' The king added.

Again the gears in his head were spinning. Not to create any blades, but to formulate a plan which allowed him to give the answer they needed, but at the same time hold as much information about himself as possible. Telling them he came from an alternative world was bad enough, it raised too many questions and he doubted they would like to hear he came from a society that would love to experiment on their kind just to learn more about this world's magic.

''The wizard's name is Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. He teleported me to a random location which I held no knowledge off. He likes to amuse himself by watching the world and never interfering… too much at least.''

Now this was what Dar'Khan wanted to hear because a smile formed over his frown.

''And are we right to assume you are something of an interference by this man?''

''In a way, yes I believe that is true.'' Archer answered honestly.

''Do you know if his actions are in favor of Quel'Thalas or the undead?''

Archer scoffed. ''I would never claim to know what goes on in that mind of his. All he does is place an extra game piece of the board and watch as it plays out. He's probably doing so right now.''

''So you are saying the man is spying on us?''

''I wouldn't call it spying as much as I would call it observing because he doesn't care who wins.''

''Is that wizard a part of the undead?'' Dar'Khan demanded.

''You mean those guys back there? No, not at all.'' Archer said with a half truth.

''This isn't going anywhere Dar'Khan, we want to know more about Sir Archer himself, not his acquaintance.'' The king scolded his fellow elf.

Dar'Khan grimaced, but did as told.

''So far we know who you are and why or how you came here. The next question is as followed. What are you?''

…

''Archer?'' Sylvanas asked after a moment of silence.

''No it's alright, I just need to think about it.''

''Why would that be? I mean you are a human are you not?'' The king asked.

The silence was once again everywhere at once. He could Sylvanas watch him, but so did the other two. The problem was that he couldn't answer it because he did not know.

''Not exactly.'' Archer admitted. ''I used to be one, that is true, but I do not think there is a proper name for what I am right now.''

Dar'Khan grew impatient. ''Hurry up, it shouldn't be that hard. Just tell us what you are.''

''Did that wizard experiment on you?'' Sylvanas asked out of nowhere.

Archer looked at her for a moment and then burst out of laughing with a baritone voice. ''Oh no, that's absolutely out of the question. I've never met the man in my life until recently. No I am not a modified human.''

''Then what are you!?'' Dar'Khan demanded.

''Well we do have a word for something close, but I don't think you are going to like what I am going to say.'' Archer commented, taking the elves aback.

''I suppose this was why you never spoke more than necessary.'' The king commented and Archer nodded.

''I did say I rather wish to tell a reassuring lie, but I did say I will speak the truth so allow me.''

''By all means, tell us the inconvenient truth.'' Dar'Khan pushed him on.

''I was once a human… and then I died.'' Archer said without any hint of regret.

…

A brief moment of shock covered every person, but then Dar'Khan started to cast a spell, only to be stopped by Sylvanas who grabbed his arm.

''Stop! He's not hostile!''

''He's an undead! Of course he is!'' He argued and tried to push her off.

''He could have killed me!''

''He was going to after spying on us!''

''He didn't raise the wards!''

''**Silence!**'' The king commanded.

Meanwhile Archer was still sitting on his chair, with a smug grin on his face no less. The king was warily looking at him, but hadn't made any motion to attack him.

''Dar'Khan, you acted too rash! He may be undead, but he hasn't finished his tale yet.'' He scolded the elf who visibly shrank under the pressure.

''Is it true Archer? Did you die? Are you one of them?'' Sylvanas couldn't help but ask.

Archer shrugged non committing. ''Well I died, that part I can say, but I am not one of them if that is what you ask me. The best word would be a Human Spirit, or a Wraith to be precise, but even that is not exactly true.''

''And why is that?'' The king asked.

''Because Wraiths are the spirits of human beings who remained attached to the world due to grudges, regrets and other sorts of unfinished business. I admit I have my regrets, but when I died I certainly passed on. Wraith's don't even have physical bodies and I do. Therefore I cannot be called a Wraith, yet I am somewhat similar.''

''But are undead.'' The king noted.

''Yes I suppose I am.'' Archer nodded without walking around the subject.

The king sighed. ''Even though I am reluctant to do so…'' He began.

''Milord, no!'' Sylvanas tried to argue. Archer was surprised, even if he was one of those that had killed her kind, she did not hate him. It felt… good if he had to admit it.

''On behalf of my people in these dire times, I Anasterian Sunstrider order you to be placed in jail until we resolved the issue of this undead invasion.''

''Milord…''

He looked Archer straight in the eyes.

''I am not a gentle ruler and I have my flaws, but you have saved one of my own and brought her back. Add that to the fact that you did not set off the wards, I conclude you are not a hostile presence. However, until we clear the woods of the undead, I cannot allow you to walk freely in my town.''

Archer nodded. ''I understand.'' And then he sighed. ''Well at least that went better than last time.'' He noted with a smirk.

''And why is that?'' The king couldn't help but ask as he walked towards the door, an angered Dar'Khan following.

''How else did you think I died in the first place.''

The king did not speak and guards quickly filled the room.

Afterwards the only one left was a saddened Sylvanas who could only wait for someone to heal her arm.

**=0=0=0=**

**Considering most people ignore the author's note when two chapters are uploaded at the same time… Here's a copy!**

**Author Notes:**

**Well I am back with a brand new ra- err story.**

**I am not going to lie, it might suck and I will expect negative reviews. But that's okay. I've been lurking around a certain forum for a while now and I have seen great tips and hilarious comments, but one thing is clear.**

**Whether you are bad at it or not. Whether you don't know if you should do it…**

**Just write.**

**Write and improve. Read the reviews and make the next chapter better. There will be no improvement without action and I am going to make this fic into a learning experience.**

**My goals;**

**-No Bad Romance or No Romance at all.**

**-Realistic Characters, they stay true to their canon selves.**

**-Believable Lore. It may not be a 100% true, but it can be possible!**

**And I want you! Yes you heard me! I want reviews about improvements, where I can do better. I want to read the first chapters and then compare it to the last and think; ''I've improved!''**

**Therefore I won't make any edits. Every fault I made will be noted and researched. Maybe at the end I will go back and make the edits as they should be, but this is a one way trip without looking back. I will grow from my mistakes and try to reach the Throne of Writers!**


	3. The Elves and The Undead

**Jewels and Swords**

Chapter 2

**The Elves and The Undead**

Sylvanas gently massaged her bandaged arm. The cut had healed nicely and they said there was no fear of it being cursed. All it appeared to be was a bad case of frostbite, which was easy enough to treat. If only it didn't itch so much!

She sighed as she wandered her hometown. She was born and raised here, she grew up and made friends and enemies. She trained to be the very best and eventually became a Ranger-General, one of the highest positions in the High Elven military.

This place should be her beacon of hope, her paradise away from conflict…

Then why did she feel so betrayed?

It wasn't just Quel'Thalas she was angry with, it was her companion as well. She wished she could say he had lied to her, that he betrayed her trust, but the fact is that he never did. He never spoke more than necessary and not once showed her any sign that he was going to be a bad omen.

He had saved her life…

And she could do nothing but watch as they cuffed his hands and took him off without looking back.

She kicked a wooden bench furiously, making it rattle against the ground. Some of her kind saw her anger and hastened their pace to wherever they were needed. The War Council was over and done. She was there, but only to speak of her experience fighting the undead and suggest ideas.

Wards were placed, spells are being cast and countless arrows are being fletched with every second that passed. The time to take the offensive was long gone, all they could do was prepare for their invasion and defend their town as best as they could.

And worst of all, she was in no condition to use her arm. The frostbite was healed, but the damage had been done. Maybe they healed her quickly after, then she could have wielded her bow again with pride, but for now the best thing she could do was rest her appendage and hope for the best. She could move it, no problem there, but once she strung her bow, a sliver of pain erupted right where the cut had been slashed and made her release the tension immediately.

She could only hope that the Undead delayed the invasion until her arm was properly healed, but she wouldn't bet on it. The size of the army she had seen would be here at minimum of a day and at max, maybe three.

She had seen how the undead ravaged the her precious forest. A trail of destruction and blight followed their path and it looked as if a scar was slowly forming over what was previously was a beautiful landscape. Even with her Ranger Corps, she could only delay the inevitable.

The undead army was massive. For every elf killed, an undead took their place, mutilating their bodies to sustain their army. Still, there was a chance of victory, she held faith in the ancient wards that protected their home. The Magisters are already busy activating them. The only downside from what she had heard, was that it cost a lot of Mana to fill them up. When they were done, they would no doubt be exhausted and unable to continue to fortify the city anymore.

That's where the rest of the military came in.

Ballista's, archers, magic traps. Each and every possible avenue was used and prepared for the incoming army. The terrain was in their favor, there was only one true path that could lead towards Quel'Thalas and that's where the main army would come from. Towers were being filled with elves, guarding the sky from those Gargoyles and many brave volunteers scattered in the woods to delay the undead army.

Sadly most of them would never be heard of again.

Sylvanas watched towards the harbor with mixed feelings. She was a proud High Elf and had great respect for her kind and their military. That's why it was a hard blow that they decided that an escape plan was being made. Civilians were all being boarded on big large boats, all ready to set sail to safety in case the undead managed to cross the walls. Many High Elves held the opinion that it was unnecessary and that they would be better off helping the defensive efforts, but she had seen what the army would do.

And she rather made sure her people evaded a fate worse than death, than point her nose up and have her pride. No she rather swallowed it, together with a drink if possible.

She looked up and frowned. Her feet had taken her to somewhere and she simply followed, but she was regretting that decision now.

She was in front of the Lawbringer's Office.

The jails used to be under the palace, but after several incidents of captured orcs escaping, they quickly figured out that keeping a royalty and orcs near one another was not the best way to deal with the situation.

That's when the humans showed up with the idea of a separate organization that specializes with criminals so the guards wouldn't have to. It worked surprisingly well and it kept the royalty from quivering whenever the doors downstairs were being slammed, so everybody won in the end.

Sylvanas sighed and entered the building. She assumed the interior would be dusty, but much to her surprise the room was spotless. Light sprinkled from the windows that looked to be recently cleaned and even the stacks of paper that were placed upon the front desk looked neatly stacked.

She blinked. She had been here several times before. It wasn't only criminals that entered these jail cells, there were also insubordinate troops who had taken the chance to drink a night before arriving the next day at training with a hangover. Yet she had never seen the building so spotless and was that laughing she heard?

She calmly walked over to the noise, it sounded rough and unnatural, as if someone was choking a bear of all things. She turned a corner and felt her moth dropping down. There was Archer, sitting comfortably with a cup of tea, giving her an amused smile. Next to him was Mariel Dawnblade, the current Lawbringer of the city, holding a mug of some kind of beverage.

The elf was different from the other elves. Whereas most elves moved with grace, Mariel liked to push his way through everything with brute strength. This also applied to his personality and appearance, he looked more human than elf. He was not well liked among the community, but they respected him because he was the only one who could keep the criminals in line without the use of magic. When dealing with orcs, that is a handy trait to have.

Mariel had a big muscled figure and grayish hair. He was one of the few elves in the city except for the elders to grow a beard. It was probably due to his fondness of humans that made him grow one in the first place.

And he was laughing. The man never laughed, it was a fact she had learned with the many visits she took to see her foolish subordinates.

''Hello Miss Windrunner, good to see you again.'' Archer commented.

She looked at him, then at her fellow elf, then back at him and felt her blood boiling.

''What is going on! I was worried sick, I thought you were supposed to be in jail!'' She shouted out her frustrations.

Archer did his shrug again. ''Well as you can see, you were wrong.''

''I can see that.'' She snapped. ''Please indulge me as to why you are not locked behind bars?''

Mariel coughed. ''Ah, that would be my bad.'' He said with a troubled smile. It seemed the man was up to his mischief again.

She walked over and slammed her hands on the small table they sat at. ''Explain now.'' She demanded.

He may be big for an elf, but one does not simply ignore an order from the Ranger-General. Not only because she was a higher ranking officer, but also because he knew she could beat him in a fight if it were necessary. It takes more than a mastery in archery to reach the position. Unarmed combat, swordsmanship, tactics, everything was important and only the best of the best would stand at top, and that was Sylvanas.

But this was Mariel we are talking about and the guy is as thick as a brick.

Mariel grinned brightly. ''Well you see, when he was brought here I was told to keep an eye on him, so I started a conversation, like who he is and why he's here…''

''And he answered?'' She pressed on.

Mariel nodded. ''I almost fell of my chair when I heard he is no longer part of the living.''

''Not almost, I certainly remember you cursing when you hit your head.'' Archer interrupted.

''Quiet you.'' Mariel ordered, but there was a snicker hidden in his voice. ''Well I was intrigued to be honest. Most undead don't look so alive, thus I was curious to know more.''

Sylvanas sighed, already knowing how that would go and Mariel continued on.

''So we made a deal to ask a question every time and the other had to answer truthfully or be asked another one.''

She stared at the human spirit with a deadpan expression. ''Archer it was because of such games that you got arrested in the first place. Haven't you learned not to repeat mistakes?''

Archer shrugged. ''While normally I would rather withhold information, it is not a suitable solution for me at the time. My knowledge about this world is lacking as you must have realized and it is not as if anything I told you would harm me in any way.''

''I know you can conjure swords.'' Sylvanas commented.

Archer nodded. ''Yes, but that is it correct? I can conjure swords, but what else can I do? If you face me with only that kind of information you are in for a bad time.''

Sylvanas had to admit Archer was right. He could conjure swords, but possible also bows and arrows if he didn't lie about his name. And then there was the type of swords he could conjure, all she knew was that he could shoot several swords from the sky and create that unique one which managed to block Frostmourne. Not the ideal intel for her to engage him in battle. Who knows what else he could do.

''What kind of archer uses swords anyway?'' She asked offhandedly.

''Wouldn't you like to know.'' Archer responded.

Mariel laughed again. It really did sound like a bear was getting choked to death, but there might be a mouse stuck in his throat as well because there was the faint sound of a squeak here and there.

She faced the Lawbringer again. ''And why is he outside his cell again?''

''Ah, because after a while he asked for a cup of tea and I demanded he would make it himself.'' He responded proudly.

''And you let him?''

''Well he did ask nicely and when the guards brought him in, he didn't even resist. He just didn't seem like the guy to stab me in the back.''

''You'd be surprised, I have done a lot of things people won't appreciate.'' Archer noted.

''He's also very direct, hey what did you say again when I asked why I shouldn't let you out?'' Mariel spoke, clapping Archer on his back, making his tea almost spill.

Archer grunted, annoyed, but didn't act. ''I said I could get out whenever I wanted to.''

Again Mariel clapped on his back, laughing. ''See? I love the guy, he doesn't play those innocent games with me like most guys do, it's refreshing to see such an honest guy for once.''

Again, Sylvanas sighed. ''Well it's how he got here in the first place. It seems my worries were misplaced, I am going back to my manor, hopefully the undead can wait for at least another night.''

But just as she left, Archer had one last question to say. ''How is the arm?''

''It's fine, it just needs some rest and it will heal.''

Archer smiled, it was a true smile, not that arrogant one he seemed to wear all the time. ''That's… that's good to hear.''

She was going to a remark about his looks, but of course Mariel just had to ruin it.

''Bwahahaha, how romantic. Is this the new forbidden love, High Elven Ranger-General and her Undead Savior!?'' She didn't even look at him as she stomped off away, but she could feel Archer smirk in her back. Damn him and his suddenly caring attitude and damn Mariel for his lack of timing!

=0=0=0=

As Sylvanas slammed the door shut, Mariel closed his eyes.

''You know, our Ranger-General is very precious to our people.'' He said out in the open.

Archer sipped off his tea, not even bothering to open his eyes, knowing the elf was looking right at him. ''I've noticed. She is well liked amongst her kind.''

Mariel snorted. ''Well liked…? She's the daughter of our whole city. Everybody adores her, she's like our own little mascot.''

''Is that supposed to be a compliment?''

''Call it whatever you want, doesn't change that she is what she is. We've all seen her train at least once. Back when she was still in training, she stood out far from the rest. She could do things with magic and a bow no one else could do. Not only that, but she never let the compliments raise to her head, which is a very rare trait for a High Elf.''

Archer immediately thought back to the other elves he had met so far.

''Yes that Dar'Khan guy was quite the character I must admit.''

Mariel took what appeared to be a stiff drink from his own mug. ''He's as bad as it gets. A total magic addict, I am not even going to bother denying his addiction. He has grand ideas, but all based around personal fame. He's a great magister, I give him that much, but again he is as egoistical as they come. I am expecting him any moment now to be placed inside one of my jail cells.''

''That bad huh.'' Archer mused.

''That bad.'' Mariel agreed. ''Back to our Ranger-General though, I am going to make one thing clear. You saved her and that is the only reason why you are outside these bars right now.''

''How generous of you.''

''Save me the semantics, I just wanted to know the guy who saved her.''

''And what is your verdict?'' Archer asked.

Mariel took another swipe of his drink. ''You are not really undead are you?''

''Well I did die, according to the classifications, I should be considered one.''

Mariel scoffed. ''Please, Archer I am not dumb. I may have more muscle than most of my kind, but don't let that fool you. I can accept that you died, but you are not like them.''

Archer sighed, placing his empty cup of tea on the wooden table.

''I never claimed to be.''

''True, but neither did you really try to deny it either. What is your goal Archer? Why did you allow yourself to be detained?''

Mariel was looking at him straight in the eyes. The man expected an answer and if he wanted, then Archer wouldn't mind giving.

''Because that path I am going to follow is one the killed me in the first place'' Archer answered honestly.

…

Mariel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. ''You know Archer, I may not be a woman, but I do understand a bit about them after two centuries. What you are doing is not going to work.''

''I think it is working splendidly.'' Archer commented.

''No, it is not. You just saved a woman at the last moment. Normal people don't do that, only heroes in legends. You act all mysterious and though, always acting like you hide something. If you are trying to make her hate you, then you are not doing a very good job at it.'' Mariel said as he grabbed his mug.

Archer smirked. ''Exactly.''

Mariel almost choked in his drink.

''W-what?''

''Oh please, I've been around for a long time and I've done this a couple of times before.''

''You mean you planned all this to happen? Why!'' Mariel exclaimed.

''To save her of course. I wouldn't be much of a hero if I let the damsel in distress die after I dropped her off.''

You could hear the gears in Mariel's head spinning until a light bulb appeared above his head and his head reddening with fury.

''You are going to abduct her!?''

''Oh no, she will go off her own accord. Abducting someone is not something a hero would do.''

''Archer… I like you, but if what you say is true, then I am going to throw you back behind bars.'' Mariel warned him. ''Explain… now.'' He demanded.

Archer sighed and motioned all around him. ''Do you honestly think the undead won't break through your defenses? I've seen their army, it is massive. Corpses walking over corpses, necromancers summoning more skeletons, gigantic spiders climbing through the trees. The undead beat your number with a 100 to 1 with ease. The odds of your city's survival, including your own is slim at best.''

Mariel visibly calmed down, his rage subsiding over the revelation.

''No matter how you look at it, the city won't survive the onslaught, but the people can still be saved. The attack won't come in waves, it will be one big army of undead marching through, over the walls and through the front gate. Your magic defenses will only last so long and the undead themselves have resurrected Elves with them so they know your weaknesses and strengths. I purposely asked Sylvanas on the way here about exit strategies. Seeing as I heard of civilians boarding ships, I can assume the subconscious message was received. She may not know it, but I made sure to have her worry about her people in a what-if case scenario.''

Now Mariel was frowning.

''So this was all planned from the very beginning?'' He asked, obviously not believing it.

Archer grinned. ''It's easier than you think. Humans and Elves seem to think alike and I have my fair share of manipulating someone's way of thought.''

The Lawbringer slumped on his chair. ''So this was all one big elaborate plan?''

Archer shook his head. ''I admit I've improvised a lot. I certainly wasn't planning on getting detained, but it helped. Sylvanas will worry about me and the moment the invasion breaks through, she'll come looking for me. I'll convince her to board one of the ships and then hold off the undead as long as possible.''

''You are missing the part where Sylvanas will help defend the city until she dies.'' Mariel commented soberly.

''Well if she's the stubborn type, then I guess I'll have to knock her out and take her to the ships myself. Not much of a problem really, only that I'll have my hands full… and I'll be classified as an abductor, but I don't think you'll mind.''

''No as long as you keep her safe I don't.'' Mariel grumped. ''And you are sure she'll look for you?'' He asked.

''Like you said, I am her mysterious savior. She'll want answers and that won't happen if I die. She also knows I can handle myself in a fight fairly well, especially against that Arthas figure, which should also make the military side of her mind ask me for help.''

Mariel somberly looked inside his mug, wishing it was still filled. He really wanted to have another swig after hearing all that.

''I just hope you are correct Archer, it would be a shame to let your plan go to waste.''

=0=0=0=

Deep inside the catacombs of a certain manor, where non but one man had ever laid foot inside for the last century, a chair was thrown against the wall with absolute fury.

Dar'Khan Drathir was not pleased. How dare that _bitch_ talk back to him. How dare she disrupt his spell!

The man was an enemy, why would she ever defend him? Because she trusted him? How ridiculous, the man is part of the undead, there is no doubt he is spying for the enemy. And yet the King trusted her over him! He should have eliminated the monstrosity the moment he agreed he was no longer among the living, but no!

Another piece of furniture met its end as it smashed against the stone wall.

All that happened was a slap on the wrist and he was send to jail. It wasn't even considered a proper punishment, it reached his ears that he could walk freely inside the building without supervision. How preposterous! Mariel was way too lenient, but that would be fixed soon enough. When all of this was over, the elf was going to beg for his mercy like the dog he is. He never liked the man and his love for human culture anyway, it would be good to see him in the gutter.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. It was time for his experiments, time to contact the Sunwell once more. It didn't fit him to be so angry because others couldn't see the truth. Obviously only he had the brain capacity to really understand what was going on.

An euphoria of magical energy flowed through his body. It felt amazing, no matter how many times he accepted its blessing. He knew he was special, only he was worthy of such joy. He had never seen any other elf react the same way, thus it was only obvious that the Sunwell had chosen him as a guardian, as its protector, as its chosen one.

''_~~~''_

What was that? Is someone trying to speak to him? Was it the Sunwell speaking to him after all these years of loyal servitude? Excited, Dar'Khan opened his mind to let the voice in.

''_~~~Do you wish for more power? To show the rest your true strength? We have much to discuss…~~~''_

And they did.

=0=0=0=

Driana Morningray ran through the forest with haste. She was tired and exhausted and also the last left of her team. They had expected an army, but that word couldn't possibly make due for the massive invasion that was hidden behind those ancient trees.

They had delayed their foe's, springing traps and magic arrows the entire day and night. She and her team all fought for Silvermoon, they started with a high amount of motivation, but all that is left now is plain simple fear.

Fear because she heard her enemy following her, fear because she knew what he could do and fear because it was going to happen to her the moment she stopped running.

The ancient roots of the many trees did not to stop him. His horse broke through with ease, often smashing right through the old wood as if it were nothing more than paper. She stopped firing arrows back, because it would only slow her down.

She knew where she was and it brought forth only more agony. It was still several hours before she would see Silvermoon and she was already at the point of exhaustion. Her foe did not stop once, he enjoyed the chase which was only made more clear by the soulless laughing that echoed across the landscape.

A stray root caught her foot and she yelped, falling down with high speed impact. A sickening sound and the stab of pain made it clear what happened. Her ankle was no longer capable of holding her weight. It was the moment she lost all hope.

His horse appeared and slowed its pace. The man dismounted the skeletal steed and slowly marched towards her. His insane grin made her tremble, his entire demeanor made her sick. He enjoyed the chase because he knew he was going to win in the end. He raised his sword…

And her screams echoed throughout the woods.

It only took several seconds before she rose and joined the ranks of the undead.

=0=0=0=

The Death Knight looked over his army as it cut through the forest with their rotten claws. One large blight trail covered the path that they marched upon, mutilating nature for years to come. It was a sight he enjoyed most dearly.

''We should arrive at Silvermoon soon, an hour at most.'' A spectral ghost next to him said.

It was Kel'Thuzad, the reason why he was here in the first place. The man ordered him in the name of the Lich King, but first he had to resurrect the necromancer in the pool of the Sunwell.

Arthas growled. It took him weeks to break through these woods and if it weren't for that blasted man clad in red, he would have at least subsided his anger by taking it out on that elven bitch, who had delayed their march to almost a standstill more than once.

''It's about time.'' He commented angrily.

''Keep calm Arthas, it wouldn't do much good to fail now we are so close.''

Arthas stayed silent, which Kel'Thuzad saw as his blessing to continue.

''I take you have made contact with someone on the inside.''

Arthas scoffed. ''It was pathetically easy. I will enjoy seeing the look on his face when he finds out the truth.''

''It shall be worth remembering.'' The necromancer agreed with a slow nod.

An hour passed as the last tree to Silvermoon was cut down. Arthas waved his sword and the army followed its direction.

The Invasion has started…

=0=0=0=

**Authors Notes**

**Well wrote this one fairly quick, don't expect it to happen a lot though.**

**On hindsight, I really think I should have written this part to be included in chapter 1, but alas what's done is done. I tried to fill up with some moments that actually matter, but I believe everyone can see filler material when they see it. Luckily the invasion is starting, so the fight scenes are going to start.**

**I hope I wrote Archer better than last time, please give your thoughts about it in the reviews. I appreciate reviews with more than one sentence the most!**


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